Cannot Be Danish Anymore
by The Ashen Sun
Summary: AU 1521. Instead of just Finland and Sweden leaving, Norway leaves as well, taking Iceland with him. Denmark follows Norway, hoping to bring him back. Rated to be on the safe side.


**Another Nordics drabble from me. Surprise, surprise, right? Human names are used in this story. Sweden is Berwald, Finland is Tino, that's known. Denmark is Magnus in this story, Iceland is Eirik. Norway is still Vilhelm, even though I've been told that his name isn't really common in Norway. I apologize if that offends any of you, that's not my intent, I assure you. I'm not changing it right now... for quite a few reasons. If you really want to know, feel free to send me a message. I _do not _own Hetalia. Also, this could be kind of seen as a sequel to Because of Freja, though I had not planned it to be. This story could be the revenge that Norway has for Denmark. Honestly, I don't know what to think of this story. The idea has been in my head for a while, and I wanted to write it. I was up late writing it, just wanting to finish it. Enjoy, and please tell me what you think!**

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><p>A pair of blue-violet eyes opened in the darkness. A lithe body shifted beneath the sheets, moving ever so carefully to avoid rousing the other man in the bed. A naked ivory body emerged and stepped carefully onto the wooden floor, stretching before pawing through a small pile of clothing to find his own. The man, a Norwegian named Vilhelm, dressed almost silently. The soft sounds were covered by his lover's deep breathing. Vilhelm approached the bed, leaning over and kissing his partner softly.<p>

Blue eyes fluttered open, barely able to see in the darkness. "N-Norge. . .?"

"Eirik had a nightmare, Magnus." The Norwegian lied easily. "I'm going to go stay with him for a bit." Magnus nodded slowly, still half-asleep. "Go back to bed. Dream again." His last words were laced with ancient Norse magic, commanding the Dane to go back to sleep. As soon as he was sure Magnus was unconscious, Vilhelm walked over to the desk and retrieved an unfinished note.

He had been writing it a few hours earlier, only to be interrupted by a pair of lips against his neck. Despite his best efforts, the Dane had managed to seduce him and take him back to bed for hours on end. Vilhelm quickly finished the letter by moonlight, signing his name at the bottom without a flourish. He blew quietly on the ink to get it to dry quickly, before setting the note back in the imprint where his head was laying a few minutes ago. He took one last look around the room, before leaving and not looking back.

Downstairs, Vilhelm met Berwald, Eirik, and Tino. They were all dressed similarly. Tough, traveler's clothes. Thick cloaks. Four bags filled with supplies leaned against the wall. They knew better than to risk waking Magnus, and quietly stepped outside before speaking. Tino lit lanterns. "Eirik and I will travel west, board a boat and go back to Oslo."

"Tino and I'll go e'st." Berwald said.

"I left a note and made it so that Magnus would follow Eirik and I should he set out to find one of us." Vilhelm informed them.

A worried look crossed Tino's face, "What about Eirik? Won't Danmark be upset?"

"Eirik will be in no danger." Vilhelm responded quickly. Berwald caught the heat in his normally dead tone.

"Perhaps we should take Eirik with us?" Tino pressed.

"You will do no such thing." Vilhelm almost growled, fisting his hand in Eirik's cloak fiercely. Berwald took a step forward and discreetly shielded Tino. "Eirik will be safe with me."

"Th' sun is r'sin'." Berwald whispered. The quartet turned eastward, where indeed light had barely begun to appear on the horizon.

"We need to leave." Tino whispered.

"May the gods keep you safe." Vilhelm said, pulling Eirik closer to him as he nodded at Tino and Berwald.

"Y'u too." Berwald answered with a curt nod. Tino smiled brightly and waved before the two of them turned and began to walk into the sunrise.

Eirik peered up at his brother, "What if Magnus does follow us?"

"I will send you ahead and face him myself. I will not put you in any danger, Eirik."

"Will I be able to go home soon?"

"Ja. You will see your people soon, Eirik. You will see your people once we are free from Danmark."

Eirik's eyes sparkled. "What are we waiting for? Let us leave!" Eagerly, he turned his back on the sun and jogged off. Vilhelm chuckled almost silently, shouldered both his and Eirik's supply bags, and followed.

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><p>Two hours later, Vilhelm felt a subtle vibration in the earth beneath his feet. Magnus was coming. Quickly, Vilhelm grabbed Eirik and magicked a barrier around the young boy, making him blend in with the scenery. "Hide in the bushes and be quiet." Vilhelm instructed him urgently. "If you get caught, you most likely won't be able to see your people again."<p>

That made Eirik move quickly, scrambling into the bushes and curling up in their shadows. Vilhelm turned to the direction he knew Magnus would be coming from, and waited. He waited for five minutes.

Magnus galloped into Vilhelm's sight on his horse, a large and very intimidating iron gray stallion, his blood red cape flowing out behind him. He seemed surprised to see Vilhelm standing in the middle of the path, waiting for him, watching him the dead gaze the Norwegian was so famous for. The stallion slowed to a trot, before stopping completely a few paces away from Vilhelm. Magnus dismounted, revealing that he had only tossed pants, boots, and a cloak on before chasing after his brothers. "Vil." He breathed.

"Magnus." Vilhelm answered monotonously.

The Dane took three long strides to stand in front of his lover, grabbed his shoulders, and kissed him. He pulled away once he realized that the Norwegian wouldn't kiss him back. "C'mon, baby, I'll take ya home."

Vilhelm took a step back, breaking the grip. "I'm afraid I cannot do that."

"B-But, Norge, Sve's gone too. I can't lose the both of ye at the same time." Magnus' blue eyes sparkled with hope, hope that Vilhelm would be swayed.

Vilhem stepped back into Magnus' embrace, the Dane's arms tightening around his slender form immediately. "I apologize, Danmark. I'll always love you." Magnus grinned, his cocky, self-assured grin. He opened his mouth to speak, only to be cut off by a pair of soft lips against his. Vilhelm wrapped his arms around Magnus' neck, just as Magnus' arms tightened around his waist. After a few moments, the Norwegian pulled away. "But I cannot be Danish anymore."

Blue eyes widened, only to flutter closed before a body slumped to the ground, unconscious.

Vilhelm let his hand drop, shoving the guilt behind an iron door and locking it. How he hated what he needed to do to the first person he'd ever loved. He'd broken a promise. A long time ago, he had sworn to himself that he would never use his magic to hurt his brothers. Magnus would be fine. Only a small dose of magic, enough to knock him out for a few hours and then tempt him back to Copenhagen instead of following Vilhelm and Eirik, had been used. It was nothing compared to what Vilhelm could really do. "I'm sorry, Magnus." He whispered sadly to the man at his feet. "It is for the best."

"Brother?" Eirik called, the bushes rustling as he shifted.

Vilhelm waved a hand, tying the horse to a tree, before undoing Eirik's disguise. "Make haste, Eirik. I've arranged for us to sail at dawn. We will be back in Oslo before the day is up."

Eirik scrambled out of the bushes and started to walk again, checking over his shoulder every few minutes to see if Magnus had moved from his spot on the ground. Vilhelm walked a few steps ahead of Eirik without looking back, unshed tears gathering in his eyes.

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><p>One week later, Norway declared independence from Denmark, taking Iceland with them.<p>

One day after that, Denmark declared war on Norway.

Two months later, Magnus and Vilhelm met on the battlefield.

Magnus stood amongst the infantry, giving orders out, planning to go right into the heat of battle himself. His battle axe rested against his shoulder, perversely calling out for Norwegian blood. For the blood of those who had wronged him. Easily, he heard Vilhelm's voice. The Norwegian was quite loud when he wished to be. The heat was evident in his voice. It was the first emotion Magnus hadn't needed to look hard to find in centuries.

"_Alt for Norge!_"

A loud cheer rose up from the Norwegian side, alarming Magnus. He searched the ranks. Berwald was there, on his beautiful black mare, Tino at his side. Arthur, as well. Magnus sneered, and Prussia chuckled from behind him. "Seems as though we will have quite a war ahead of us."

Vilhelm was the one waving the Norwegian flag, riding up and down the ranks on his pure white stallion, shouting encouragements to his troops. His cheeks were flushed with blood, and his uniform was spotless. He stood in his stirrups, his gaze searching the enemy ranks.

Their eyes locked.

Magnus mounted his horse, raising his axe in the air to identify himself. Vilhelm rested the bottom of the flagpole on his foot, raising his staff high in the air with his other arm.

A gun went off, and suddenly the war was on.


End file.
